


Found

by kuonji



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animals, Children, Families of Choice, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dicky the Wonderdog is the happiest dog on the planet until one day when his world falls apart. He is left alone and confused, with no one to care for him -- until he meets a young human who is equally lost but is willing to open his grieving heart to a little dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Bruce + Dick Ficathon 2013](http://brucedickficathon.tumblr.com/). Check out the awesome stories and art there!
> 
> Alternate link: <http://brucedickficathon.tumblr.com/post/63024835230/fic-found-by-kuonji>

Dick -- though he wasn't known by that name at the time -- was born in the wee hours of the first day of spring. He was the only pup of his mother's first litter. If it weren't for his unselfish nature, he might have grown up very spoiled indeed. This was especially true because both of his parents were prized performers, and thus from his earliest days high hopes were set for him as well -- high hopes which he turned out to be more than happy to live up to.

His mother always told him that he was born to fly, and indeed, he was never more alive than when he was bounding over towers of obstacles or leaping through rings of fire or tumbling and rolling over their trainer's back. He took special delight in making the younger humans laugh. He enjoyed being petted and fed and made much of. He loved being a star.

The flashy, glittery red cape edged in red and green that he flaunted while performing soon earned him the nickname of _Diklo_ from the young humans who loved to watch him -- 'neckerchief' in the language of their human family.

It wasn't long before little Diklo's fame became known to the people in their particular circle. His and his parents' act was especially admired by the proprietor of a certain traveling circus.

When he was nine months old, his trainer moved them to a new place and gave Diklo a new name, and _Dicky the Wonderdog_ was born.

***

Dicky's new home was a fantastic place. There were constantly new people, new scents, new sounds to explore. There were other creatures aside from the humans and dogs and cats that Dicky was used to, and even though he was not allowed close to them, they fascinated him like everything else in this wild, exciting place. There was noise all the time, whether the noise of music and strangers, or the noise of travel with their new family, and everything always smelled of good things to eat.

Once, sometimes twice a day, Dicky strutted and pranced and leaped and tumbled with his parents under the bright lights, to the gasps and cheers of an adoring crowd that varied in size but was always many times bigger than those of Dicky's puppyhood. The people's delighted shouts filled the corners of the tent they performed under and Dicky's heart soared as high as his paws.

Afterward, his trainer would bathe them and cuddle them and give them a fine dinner as a reward. His parents would bark and tumble with him like they were young pups themselves. And when his parents had settled down to their own pursuits, Dicky would be free to gambol about and visit the other denizens of their extended family as he chose. As long as Dicky was present for performances and practice, he was allowed to wander the vast camp like his personal playground during the rest of his day.

For a young dog with love and curiosity for all the world, there was no better place to grow up.

Until one day... _something_ happened. He had lately learned a new trick -- a four-ring jump from a ramp, ending in a dive into a tub of water -- and both he and his trainer were eager to get it perfect for his next performance. After an especially hard practice session, Dicky had wandered the camp, begging treats of popcorn and pretzels and hot dogs from young humans as he often did.

As a result, by the time he got back for dinner, he was only able to finish half of his. More quickly than usual, he fell into a deep stupor.

When he woke, he was trembling with confused fear and a pain that wracked his body in waves. He whimpered, signaling his distress. His parents were near, having finished their meals and begun slumbering earlier than he, but neither of them came to him. Again, he whimpered, then squealed as a seizure of pain hit him. He crawled slowly on his belly towards where his nose told him his parents were, his watery eyes making his vision useless.

It seemed to take a day to reach his sire's side. Again, he called out, seeking comfort. But his sire lay still. Still and cold. And when he reached his dam, she was the same.

Instinctively, he knew that his sire and dam would not rise again.

Even amid his own pain, he tried to make a sound that he had never attempted before, an announcement of grief and sorrow and loss -- yet that relief was not granted to him. His body would not cooperate. He was too weak. Merely whimpering, he struggled closer until he lay against his dam's side, and then he fell back into oblivion.

When he woke again, his body and legs had been bound by a voluminous cloth -- a towel, he recognized. He twitched feebly but was unable to dislodge it. He whined. Immediately, his trainer was there, loosening the towel and rubbing down Dicky's body while making soothing noises.

"How is he?" Dicky recognized the voice of the big boss.

"His heart is strong. I think he will be all right."

Dicky shook himself. He still felt somewhat disoriented, and breathing was uncomfortable, but he felt otherwise normal.

"We're lucky Dicky survived, at least. What do you think happened?"

"I think _you_ would know best." Dick whimpered, anxious at his trainer's tone. The humans ignored him.

"What do you mean?" The big boss sounded nervous.

"We hear things. You were arguing with a man the other day, yes?"

When the big boss spoke next, it was in a whisper. "Do you mean Zucco's guys? No, that's ridiculous. This was a coincidence, that's all. You've said the heat is bad for them. Or maybe they caught something from the city dogs."

"Maybe. Maybe _not_. We should never have come to this place. It's dirty."

"You used to live in a village where the wash water came from the river."

"Not that kind of dirty," his master spat. "These gaje cities. Nobody knows how to wash bad luck away, and it just grows and grows, and evil things feed on it."

"I thought you didn't believe in all that Gypsy stuff."

Dicky looked up at his trainer as he made an irritated sound. He couldn't understand the humans' speech, but the tension in the room was obvious. His trainer, noticing his unease, put a hand on his shoulders.

"It's all right, Diklo. We'll have to find some more dogs to perform with you. For now, a short show will have to do."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," a new voice put in. Dicky growled, angry at having been startled. If he weren't feeling this strange lethargy, he would have noticed the female human approach. "Mr. Haly and Mr. Graeves, I presume? I'm from the Gotham Animal Control Agency. The vet who took your other two dogs alerted me to the situation."

"What situation?" the big boss said.

"Your animals aren't licensed for work here. They're a threat to public health."

"What?" his trainer jumped in. "He is only a dog. And such a little one! He does tricks to make people laugh. How can you tell me he is a threat?"  
"Nevertheless, household pets carry diseases and can get in fights with local strays or other pets."

"Dicky is not a pet! He is a working _acrobat_."

"All the more reason to worry. He's in constant contact with crowds of people, especially children. I expect he hasn't had his shots?"

"He is perfectly healthy. Very strong."

"Then what killed his parents?"

"It was sabotage! Murder! Why aren't you out looking for the criminal instead of here?"

"The police are looking into it, but they notoriously have a backlog of cases. This one's going to be low priority."

"Two of my dogs -- the best dogs I've ever owned -- are dead!"

"I'm very sorry about that, sir. But the truth is, none of these dogs should have been allowed into City limits in the first place. Mr. Haly, as the general manager of this circus, you must have known this. Gotham has strict regulations about performing animals."

"I thought they were covered under my general license. This is all a misunderstanding! Look, I'll apply for a license today, and I'll take Dicky out of the show until we get it. He needs to recover, anyway."

"You don't understand. You're not taking him anywhere. As a stray animal, he's the City's responsibility now. We'll take charge of him. Furthermore, you're to be fined for even having him and the other two dogs here."

"What! How dare you. My Diklo is a very valuable performer."

"He's an unregistered animal."

The human voices continued for a very long time, with even the big boss starting to shout as well. Dicky lay very quietly, too scared to do anything except listen to the snarling tones and watch. At the end of it all, the female took Dicky by the collar and dragged him into a box much like his traveling crate, except much smaller. And it smelled of chemicals and other animals.

He scrabbled at the sides of the box and yelped for his trainer. His trainer said his name and shouted more at the female, who ignored him. Dicky's box was picked up, and then he was moving -- away from his home and away from his trainer and where his parents had used to live. Finally, fueled by panic, he found enough energy to howl his fear and grief and confusion.

But it didn't help.

***

Dicky was brought to a place that was filled with other dogs. The flat walls echoed with deafening barks and cries. There were rows of tall cells with dogs snarling and barking in alarm, curiosity, fear, and aggression. The whole place was pungent with anxiety. Dicky's cage was set down and opened against one such cell. When he froze in confusion, the human who had carried him here shoved a stick in through the bars and prodded him until he stumbled out onto the concrete floor.

There were two other dogs in the cell, about Dicky's size. For unknown reasons, they hated Dicky immediately.

Unlike the other dogs Dicky had met in his life, these neither ignored him or tried to befriend him. Worse, they tried their best to provoke fights. Dicky had play-fought with his parents all his life, and he'd also had his share of more serious run-ins with other dogs before. These, however, were not the probing challenges that Dicky was used to -- the normal tussles for determining rank when a new animal was in the territory. No, these were vicious attempts to hurt and ultimately to kill.

These dogs were driven mad by a life of meanness and then forced confinement. Dicky -- despite his natural and trained agility -- had little defense against them. Luckily, the humans interfered once the fight became too much. Unluckily, they treated both Dicky and the other dogs the same -- a drenching with high-pressured water from a hose, a loud scolding, and then being shut into a small cage for the night.

The next morning, Dicky was placed in a different cell with three new dogs who didn't seem to like him any better than the previous ones had. He soon acquired a number of bites and scratches. He dealt out more than a few of his own, but that never made him feel any better.

Close to evening of his third day in this strange, cold place, he felt something else that made him shiver. It was an emptiness. A _hollowness_. Suddenly, he knew without a doubt that he would never see his trainer again. As he had before, he howled. He cried. He yipped his sorrow and his loneliness.

The humans came and shouted at him and beat him until he finally subsided, too exhausted to resist. He didn't understand what was happening to him. In the space of a few days, his entire world had fallen apart.

One thing Dicky did understand was, he did not belong here. When faced with a situation, he solved it by moving, whether it was performing a trick to make a sad human laugh, or finding a ledge as a jump-off point to reach that tantalizing scent on the counter, or -- as in this case -- running away.

The next time a human opened the mesh door and leaned in to give them food, Dicky leaped over the person's shoulder, sprang off his back, and hit the floor running. He remembered the double doors he had been brought through when he had first arrived. They were closed, but Dicky had learned long ago the trick to get them open.

Timing it carefully, he ran full speed, then leapt up to hit the metal bar right at the edge closest to the center where daylight showed through. As he had expected, the door was bumped open a bit. Quick as a wink, he wriggled through. The door closed painfully on his hindquarters before he could quite make it, but other than letting out a yelp, he paid it no mind.

Dicky ran as fast as he could, and he never looked back.

He was free.

***

Surviving was not too difficult, all in all. A small, nimble, intelligent dog could find (or steal) scraps to eat and find out-of-the-way niches to rest. Out here where there was room to maneuver (and to run), he didn't need to fear the larger dogs or the sneering humans who threatened him. Dicky was self-sufficient -- and utterly miserable.

Dicky had never been on his own before. Always, there had been his parents, and humans who fed him and praised him and asked him to perform and fly and make them smile. Out here, the other dogs wanted only to fight and the humans wanted only to hurt.

His life had not given him the temperament to kill or hurt for purposes other than defense, and without that, he wasn't able to join one of the ferocious roving packs, much less advance his place in one. He had no allies or companionship. For a dog like Dicky, that was akin to torture. For the first time in his life, he had no one who cared whether he even existed. At least at the cold place, the humans had fed him and reacted to him.

One day, he was nosing through the trash piled in an alleyway when he noticed movement behind him. Once, he might have run, but today, he only turned to look listlessly at the possible enemy. He'd always known he would lose a fight one day that he couldn't recover from. It might as well be today.

It was a young male human that stared back at him. Dicky did not sense aggression from him but rather a pall of... sadness. Apathy gave way to curiosity, and he took a step forward and scented the air. The young human seemed out of place -- his scents were both richer and flatter than what Dicky was used to.

Another human, this time an older male, ran up to the mouth of the alley and took hold of the young human's shoulders.

"Master Bruce! My dear boy, come away from there. Reporters will be here next."

"They don't scare me."

"No, I dare say they don't. But you hardly want them running amok _here_ , do you?"

Dicky hunched as he sensed anger and hopelessness. But the sadness suddenly overwhelmed both, and the young human sagged. He pointed at Dicky. "There's a dog," he said, voice toneless, but his body posture exuded faint curiosity.

"Pardon? Ah, so there is."

"It's looking at me. Alfred it looks... sad."

"Well, dogs are expressive creatures and surprisingly empathetic." The older human paused and looked closely at Dicky. It was not an unkind look, so Dicky did not run, despite what his newly learned instincts told him to do. "Master Bruce, forgive me, it's just a thought, but... would you like to keep him?"

The younger human sounded surprised when he replied, "Keep him?"

"He doesn't have a collar, and he's clearly been on the streets for a time. I doubt he belongs to anyone."

"I-- I don't have time for a _pet_ , Alfred. I can't afford the distractions. That's why we sold the horses, remember?"

Now the young human was staring at him concentratedly as well.

And then, perhaps he was simply tired of running and hiding, or perhaps there was something different about these two humans in particular, because something changed.

The last month of hard living and ignominy had worn him down, yet Dicky's most deep-seated urge upon being watched by humans -- ingrained in him since birth -- had always been to perform. He shook himself, as if to wake himself up. Then, taking a skipping run at the nearest wall, he bounded up, kicked off the rough brick, and turned a flip. He heard the young human gasp, and something lifted in Dicky's heart.

"What was that?"

"Oh, my."

An audience of two was nothing compared to the thousands Dicky had once entertained, but the sounds of awe and excitement were familiar and satisfying. Wagging his tail, Dicky reared up to stand on his hind paws and hopped forward a few feet. He heard the young human make a brief sound of amusement. "Look, Alfred!" Encouraged, he then pitched himself forward to walk on his front paws, a harder trick that Dicky's small frame made possible -- with practice.

Unable to watch where he was going, he lost his balance and misstepped. He twisted as he fell so that he landed on his side. Still, it was embarrassing. He jumped to his feet and sneezed once. To make up for his mistake, he raced toward some boxes on the other side of the alley, leaped up onto them, then bounded into the air. He imagined passing through four sparkling rings before tucking himself expertly to land in a puddle at the end of the alley. Muddy water sprayed everywhere.

Dicky barked in accomplishment and trotted back to where the two humans stood watching him with wonder on their faces. Once he reached them, he sat up in a begging position. When he was still a puppy, his family had performed for smaller audiences. Then, he'd used to have a small bucket that he could carry with his teeth. Humans would drop coins and bills into it after a performance. He had memories of later, too, when humans sometimes gave him pretzels and hot dogs when he did this.

That wasn't what he was after, now. Ever since his parents had died, Dicky had been _starving_ \-- but not for food.

The young human squatted down. "You are one strange mutt," he said in an affectionate tone. Dicky wagged his tail tentatively. He wanted this human to show his nature on his own. Recent experiences had taught him wariness. Dicky dropped to his feet and cocked his head to one side, and twitched his ears back.

The human held out one small hand. Dicky shifted forward to nudge it. He smelled... all right. Not aggressive. Not fearful. Dicky sat down and waited.

The hand moved hesitantly to pet Dicky's shoulder, then began stroking down his back. When Dicky moved forward to butt his head into the human's chest, the human gasped again. It was a small, light sound, unlike the screeches and shouts that Dicky was used to from smaller humans. He seemed, strangely, not entirely human at all, but rather more like those wild and fascinating creatures Dicky had used to try to get close to in the circus.

"You're going to need a bath if you want to walk on Alfred's carpets."

Dicky yapped.

"I take it we are inviting a guest to the Manor after all?"

The older human looked down on them, also smiling. The younger human became solemn once more.

"We should make a stop at the closest shelter anyway. Make sure he's not listed as missing."

"Very good, sir. I'll go get the car."

***

The humans' car was roomy, much larger than the trucks and carts he had traveled in before. Almost, it reminded Dicky of his trailer, though the scent was entirely different -- clean new carpet with old leather and everything overlaid with chemicals that tickled his nose. He sneezed and immediately, the young human, who was carrying him, squeezed him a little tighter.

Alarmed, Dicky struggled to break the hold. Had it been a mistake to trust him?

"Easy, easy." The door slammed shut, and the human let Dicky go. Dicky jumped onto a seat and looked anxiously around the vehicle, then out the windows. He relaxed when no further threat presented itself.

"It's okay, fella." The rumbling and sharp scent that meant they were about to move started up. The young human came to sit next to him. "Wait, he doesn't have a seat belt. We can't drive yet. It's too dangerous."

"He's a dog, Master Bruce," said the older human from the front.

"That doesn't mean _physics_ won't apply to him. He could get hurt."

The older human didn't speak for a moment, and Dicky whined at the tension. He shook himself, and that prompted the young human to clutch his fur, not to the point of being painful, but it was slightly uncomfortable. Dicky yipped, and the younger human let go. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding apologetic. Dicky sniffed the human's damp palms. What was making him so anxious?

"I will drive slowly, Master Bruce. Don't worry. We'll find a way to secure him after we get him home. Until then, why don't you hold on to him?"

"Okay."

Dicky watched out the window as they moved. The young human held onto Dicky tightly around his shoulder and neck. It was uncomfortable, but no worse than when some of the young humans hugged Dicky and tried to give him treats that he didn't like, so he accepted it.

In a short while, however, the slight physical discomfort became real agitation. Something was wrong. The farther they went, the more sure Dicky became.

They were headed back towards the cold place. 

Dicky began to whimper. He'd thought... These two humans seemed so kind. But he would have to run after all. He was so tired of running. It seemed like such a long time ago since he'd been content every day and thought every day after would be just the same.

The car stopped eventually, and Dicky was ready. From outside, he could sense the sounds and scents of unhappy animals. No sooner had the door opened then Dicky had leaped out and was flying away as fast as his paws could take him. Behind him, the young human cried out in dismay. He faltered for a moment -- but, remembering the hopelessness and jealous ferocity of the other dogs in that place, he did not turn back.

***

Instinctively avoiding his former haunts, Dicky found himself a new corner to sleep in and a new group of alleys to nose around in for food, a new pack of other dogs to give him trouble. He remained lonely and unhappy -- doubly so because for a brief moment he had remembered what it was like not to be hiding and defensive all the time. Those two humans had felt good. For the first time since he had been taken from his trainer, he had felt safe and important. Compared to that, eking out his existence here was woefully inadequate.

It was a few days after his meeting with the humans that he suddenly caught a familiar scent around the edge of a dumpster that he had been frequenting.

Cautiously, Dicky followed this trail around the block. He stopped at the edge of the territory of a vicious pack that he had tangled with the first time he'd hit these streets. He gazed across that uncrossable line, filled with an odd longing.

***

Two days later, Dicky was enjoying a rare bit of luck in the form of a bite of hamburger. The packs had either missed or dismissed it as too much trouble because it was wrapped tightly and was more bread and lettuce than meat. Dicky licked the wrapper assiduously, cleaning it of the last dredges of meat flavor.

Suddenly, he stopped. Over the odor of old meat and cheese and rotting vegetables, he had smelled...

Quickly, he ducked behind a pile of broken crates. He crouched at attention, ears pricked and nose twitching. He heard the high-pitched voice before he saw the humans approach.

"...hadn't gotten confused yesterday by that chihuahua-spaniel mix. It was a stupid mistake."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Master Bruce. Tracking in an urban environment is hardly an easy task."

"But it was _obvious_ those tracks were part of the pack we saw. I should have realized when-- Look, Alfred!"

Dicky flattened his ears uncomfortably. The two humans had stopped where he had paused to scratch himself earlier. The young one crouched down and picked something up with a set of bright metal tweezers. It was a bit of Dicky's discarded fur.

"Stiff brown hairs, short-haired breed. It's on a likely path from that fence where we found the scat that was covered over. It's got to be from Dicky. He must have been here!" Dicky wriggled upon hearing his name. What were they saying?

"It's possible, I suppose."

"I'm sure of it! I'm very observant. You know that."

"Yes, of course, sir."

"Alfred, don't patronize me."

"Of course not, sir."

"I can fire you, you know."

"Not until you're eighteen, as I understand it."

The young human sighed loudly. He sounded fond and amused. Dick pricked his ears again. These two humans were a family, and they were kind people, he was sure of it. He edged a bit outwards so he could see better-- but shrank back abruptly when the young human let out a loud shout.

"Look!" He pounced on the wrapper Dick had been licking earlier, picking it up with his hands this time. Dick watched in bewilderment. He'd already cleaned it thoroughly. There wasn't a trace of edible substance left. He didn't understand why the young human was so excited.

"Put that down this instant, Master Bruce! Who knows where it's been!"

"Saliva, and it's still warm! He must be here!" Anticipation poured off of the young human. He stood stiffly and alertly and turned in a circle, like a dog scenting the air. "Dicky," he called. "Here, boy. We won't hurt you. I promise." Confused by the human's behavior, Dicky stayed hidden, trembling nervously. It didn't matter if they were nice people, he realized. They had brought him back to the bad place.

His trainer and the big boss had been nice, too. Yet they had let him be taken away. He couldn't trust anyone.

"There! Alfred, he's right there." Dicky jumped to his feet when the young human looked right at him and spoke softly to his companion.

"My word. You've actually found him."

"Don't sound so surprised. Dicky. Come here, boy. We'll take you home, okay? Don't you want to come home with us? We'll take good care of you, I promise."

Growling slightly, Dicky backed himself further into his shelter. The young human came closer, and Dicky flattened his ears back and growled louder. Hesitating, the young human finally backed off. He wasn't excited or amused anymore. He was _crushed_.

"Alfred, he _hates_ me."

Sitting up, Dicky whined. He felt... guilty. He had never been able to resist trying to cheer a sad human, and now he was pretty certain this young one was sad because of him.

"Don't give up, sir. I'm sure he'll come around. He's only frightened. Look, he's already looking better. Come here, boy. You're quite safe." Pricking his ears at the soothing voice of the older human, Dicky inched his way out. "That's a good little Dicky-bird."

Still staying a safe distance away, Dick stood up on his hind legs and pawed the air. He was rewarded when the young human's despair seemed to lessen. "Do you think he's forgiven me?"

"Only one way to find out." The older human handed something to the younger human. Sniffing, Dicky could tell it was food. His ears pricked forward in interest.

The young human crouched down and held the food out tentatively. "Here, boy."

Equally tentative, Dicky crawled forward. The human made no movement, only his slightly unsteady breathing indicating his anxiety. Finally, he was close enough to snatch the food from the human's hand. It was a crunchy treat that tasted of smoked meat. He gobbled it down.

"He took it, Alfred. He took it! What should I do now?"

"Well, I suppose we could try..." The older human whistled -- and Dicky straightened in shock. Then he turned a few quick circles, chasing his own tail around. Once he straightened out again, he saw the younger human staring, open-mouthed.

"What was that? What did you do? Why's he acting that way?"

"While you were interviewing Mr. Haly, I struck up a conversation with a few of the other performers. They remembered some of the commands his trainer used to use. Honestly, I didn't think it would work. They made it a point to tell me that the dogs only listened to Mr. Graeves."

"Why didn't you tell me about that?"

"Ah, now, even your Watson must have a few surprises now and then."

"Tell him to come home with us!"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way."

Dicky followed this back-and-forth with interest. The young human's sadness had virtually disappeared, replaced by excitement. He could tell that the older human -- and himself, to a certain extent -- had been the cause. Giving in to his old urge to perform, he turned a few more circles, then he took a running start and leaped right over the young human's crouched form. Both humans shouted in surprise. He turned and did it again the other way.

Next, kicked up into walking on his front legs with his back legs high in the air. This time, he managed it flawlessly. Coming down, he cavorted in a circle, rolled on the ground, then, jumped up onto the young human's shoulders and off again. Finally, throwing caution to the winds, he ended by jumping right into the startled human's arms.

Right up against the young human's heart, even panting with exertion himself, he could feel the other trembling. He could sense wonder and happiness.

"Please. Come home with us?" the young human whispered.

Dicky looked up at him. He yearned for a life that he'd had once. Something told him that these two humans might be able to give it to him. He barked.

"I think perhaps that is a yes. Careful now, Master Bruce. Perhaps we should put him on a lead?"

"No. I don't want to scare him. I can carry him. He's not heavy at all."

Once again, Dicky was taken to the car. He was released as soon as they were inside. He scrambled around, re-exploring the space. He could still smell his old scent here.

There was something new in the car, on one of the seats -- a padded cushion with high, soft walls. Sniffing at it, Dicky jumped up through the U-shaped opening at the front and turned a few circles inside. There were straps inside that attached the whole thing to the back of the seat.

"That's right. It's for you, to keep you safe. I had it specially made."

Dicky tensed as the young human reached up and pulled a net across the opening, closing him off. Dicky could easily jump out, however, and he could see out of the netting, so he decided he could accept this addition. In fact, he laid down on the soft bedding. This was the most comfortable he had been since he had lived with his parents.

Again, the car rumbled. Dick stayed alert, but they moved in a different direction this time, away from the cold place. The scents he could catch changed after a while, becoming more wood and water rather than concrete and metal. The young human petted him, then scratched Dicky's head and neck. It felt wonderful. Dicky wagged his tail until he felt his entire body swaying. Finally, they stopped in front of a large building.

"I'll just go get things ready, then," said the older human. "Come inside in a few minutes. We don't want to alarm him."

"All right."

Dicky drowsed under the young human's touch for a while longer. "We'll take good care of you, I promise," he murmured. "You're alone, just like I am. I won't let anyone hurt you again." He didn't protest at all when he was picked up and carried to the large building.

Once they were inside, however, he faced a fresh horror -- but at least one that was familiar from his former home.

Dicky yipped in dread as he was deposited in a large tub of frothy water and scrubbed within an inch of his life.

***

"It was really nice of Pop Haly to let us keep him, huh?"

"Indeed. But I suppose without a proper trainer that Dicky could trust, he wouldn't have been much use as a performer. We should be glad he was not sold to someone unscrupulous."

Dicky, freshly cleaned and dried and placated with a lavish soup bone all his own, lay beside the young human on the thick rug that still smelled strongly of sheep. He gnawed at his bone and reveled in the quiet, relaxed atmosphere. It felt as if he had always belonged here.

"Yeah. Weird, that. They could probably have sold him for quite a bit of money, and instead, he wound up as a stray." Dicky looked up and barked when the young human got down on his elbows in front of him. "I guess that's what happens when nobody's paying attention, huh? You could have been killed out there and no one the wiser."

"That would indeed have been a tragedy, young sir."

Relinquishing the bone for a moment, Dicky sniffed the young human's face. He still had that faint sense of sadness to him, but for the moment, it did not seem overwhelming. Satisfied, Dicky went back to his snack.

He jerked a moment later when the human put an arm around him and laid his face against Dicky's neck. He could tell that the young human was a little nervous, so he held still and tried hard not to seem threatening, like he did with the young humans he'd used to entertain. Once it seemed the young human had gotten comfortable again, Dicky relaxed as well.

"Dicky the Wonderdog. That's kind of a mouthful, don't you think?"

"Would you like to rename him?"

"Maybe not completely. He already knows his name. How about just 'Dick' instead of Dicky?"

Dicky barked at the sound of his name. He didn't quite understand what was happening, but he liked how the young human looked at him and held him not too tight but just tight enough. He thought that he and this young one and the older one could be a family after all.

He licked the human's face, and the human laughed. It was a sound Dicky had never heard before, and he determined that he would like to hear it again, as often as possible. Wriggling in the young human's arms, he rolled to his back and grinned up at him, a dog grin with his tongue hanging loose and nose quivering with excitement.

Laughing again, the young human said, "Dick it is."

***

"Yes!"

Dick raised his head from where he was wrestling his ball. (It was a slippery devil, but it made a delightful squeak when he chewed it at just the right angle.) Bruce was staring avidly at the large newspaper pages on the dining room table.

"Something interesting in the evening paper, sir?" Alfred asked, as he entered with a tray. Dick scampered close, careful not to trip the human. (He had been admonished enough times to get the message.) He didn't think he would get in trouble for jumping into Bruce's lap, however. Eagerly, he watched the approach of the piece of jerky beside the fragrantly scented cup of hot cocoa on the tray.

Bruce wrapped his arms around Dick, squeezing once. "They finally nabbed Zucco today, at an apartment in Uptown. He's been charged with a whole list of things, including extortion, murder, even animal cruelty."

"Even in Gotham, folks have a soft spot for animals. Not to mention, the clues you helped turn up were extremely useful for building the case against the miscreant."

"Say, maybe that's what I should do, be a detective. Or an FBI agent. What do you think?"

"How about we discuss your future career once you've reached high school? As for now, enjoy your cocoa."

" _This_ isn't for me, I hope?" Bruce asked, picking up the jerky.

Dick wriggled excitedly until Bruce let him go. Immediately Dick jumped onto the table-- only to tumble backwards onto the floor at an outraged shout of, " _Master_ Dick, if you please!"

Picking himself up, Dick shook himself, then gazed up and up at Alfred, who had his hands on his hips and a deep scowl on his face. Quickly, Dick rolled over and showed his belly. Getting a second whiff of the jerky, he whined, too, beseechingly.

"Stop behaving so shamelessly."

Bruce covered a laugh, which only encouraged Dick to wriggle and whine in a more exaggerated fashion.

Alfred sighed. "Very well. I forgive you."

Barking, Dick scrambled to his feet, then up to his hind feet, and hopped, turning in a circle until Alfred held up a hand for 'stop'.

"Sit, please. Gentlemen do not make a scene at the table."

Dick didn't always understand what the humans meant when they spoke to him, but he knew what to do when Alfred had food. He plopped his hindquarters to the floor and sat up straight and tall, his front paws placed precisely next to each other in front of him.

"All right, Alfred. Give it to him. He's being good, see?"

"Hm, yes. Quite the accomplished little actor we have here."

Dick waited for the jerky to be placed in front of him and then for Alfred's nod before he attacked it with gusto. He ignored Alfred's sigh, since Bruce was chortling in glee. When he was done, he hopped back up onto Bruce's lap and put his front paws on Bruce's chest so he could lick his face.

"You'll be going up to bed soon, I trust?" Alfred said in that tone that was a question but not.

Dick barked at the word, 'bed'. After a determined nocturnal campaign and Bruce's blatant cooperation, they had at last convinced Alfred it was all right for Dick to sleep curled up next to Bruce rather than in his dog bed. Dick enjoyed bouncing on the vast, fluffy surface, turning backflips and tumbling and making Bruce laugh, and afterwards, snuggling close enough to feel each other's warmth like he had used to with his parents.

"It's not that late yet."

"Crime fighters need to get a good night's sleep to keep their senses sharp. Isn't that right, Master Dick?"

Dick barked again.

"That's not fair! You can't get Dick to argue your point. He doesn't understand what's going on."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that's true at all." Alfred squatted down and stroked Dick's back, something he did only rarely. He look Dick right in the eye. "I think he understands the important things. Don't you, Master Dick?"

Dick turned to snuffle at Alfred's hand, then barked again.

He was warm and full and his two humans loved him. Dick was content.

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: Inspired by Robin Annual #4. I originally titled this story "Christmas Puppy" (as per page 10 of that comic), and that is what I call it in my head, but ultimately I had to change it because it didn't seem to quite fit the story.
> 
> Note 2: Dog car seats probably didn't exist back in the 80s, but Bruce is a smart little boy and can design his own. Google "dog car seats" for some adorable photos.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:  
> [Nocturnal Visitor](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/56734.html) (Batman), by kuonji  
> [A Different Sort Of Command](http://archiveofourown.org/series/19888) (Stargate SG-1), by kuonji  
> [Everybody Has A Birthday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/20646) (Batman), by Mara  
> [Where We Love is Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/473346) (Batman), by Tabithian  
> [The Golden Cage](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/1037275.html) (Batman), by BradyGirl_12


End file.
